


I'm a Siberian tiger (I'll always be an outsider)

by sandpapersnowman



Series: Arthur Bailey Does One Gay Thing Per Episode [1]
Category: Blood Drive (TV), Blood Drive - Fandom
Genre: Innuendo, M/M, Non-Consensual Touching, non-consensual flirting really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 07:37:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11203395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandpapersnowman/pseuds/sandpapersnowman
Summary: "Who are you?""At your service."





	I'm a Siberian tiger (I'll always be an outsider)

**Author's Note:**

> title from phoenix's [Fleur De Lys](https://genius.com/Phoenix-fleur-de-lys-lyrics)

The campground will hold everyone, one way or the other. He thinks about sticking around his partner, but he'll be around her all day for the foreseeable future, so... He may as well take some time to himself.

He ducks into a tent that's somehow blessedly empty, and takes a moment to look up where the canvas pulls into a pole. He takes a deep breath, and another, and lets the weight of the day's events crush it back out of him.

How the _fuck_ did he end up here?

"I know it's a lot to take in," someone purrs behind him. "It feels like more than you can handle now, but just wait until things get all wet and messy."

There's a knife at his throat. Black fingertips. Slink.

"It makes the ride _so_ much smoother," he whispers, right against his ear, and he tinges red at the innuendo he's realized each word has been laced with.

"Let go of me. I'm going to bed."

"Without me?" Slink jokes, but pulls away from him.

"I'm a cop," he reminds him again, but something about his voice sounds unconvinced. Is he even a cop, after today? After what he's seen, and done?

Slink reaches out while he's distracted, grabs his jaw and runs a thumb over his mouth.

"That's good. I don't think you'd like _my_ handcuffs, anyway."

Arthur jerks away and steps back. He doesn't have any weapon he could use, nothing that would do enough damage to let him get away, anyway --

\-- and then he remembers the knife through Slink's hand. How it hardly phased him, how he'd pushed it back out like --

\-- like something obscene, he thinks instead, rather than letting this place get to him. He's seen more dicks today than in five years of station locker room showers. He'd rather them stay out of his head, too.

"Get your rest," Slink says. Something like disgust lines the command, as though sleep is something Slink is somehow _above_. "You'll need it."

He's gone just as quickly as he'd come -- as quickly as he'd walked in, not come.

Maybe the implant is messing with him.

Maybe he just needs sleep.


End file.
